Dysfunctional
by Chipsun
Summary: Their relationship is more than "just a bit" dysfunctional, but Alex won't have it any other way. A series of interrelated Y/A drabbles/ficlets. Rating subject to change.
1. Meeting

**Title:** Meeting  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K+  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Their first meeting as 'normal' people is not what he expects. WC: 581  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Slash.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> _I do not own Alex Rider._  
><strong>an:** This will be a series of drabbles and ficlets loosely connected to each other. I have only been to San Francisco once... And that was when I was what? Seven? Maybe eight.

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><p>Three years was not a long time. Time was just an illusion, and one could make it seem like an eternity.<p>

Alex was fairly used to America by now. His accent was barely noticeable, a soft lilt under his tongue. It had been three years since he had actually gone on a mission. He was too old for it now, too old to pose as a child. MI6 respected his wishes for a normal, uncomplicated life, but it just made him wonder - would they be training another boy to kill for them?

To bring another criminal organization down?

To ruin any hopes of a normal life?

Yet, he still longed for the adrenaline rush. Old habits die hard, it seems. The Pleasures, though very kind, were worried when he insisted they have a gun - just in case. But the very thought of Jack, his caretaker, pain and regret lanced through his chest. He didn't have the heart to pick up a gun in years.

Until now. Even after three years, the gun held such a familiarity to it that almost scared him. The shiny metal glinted in the dull lights of his slightly run down apartment kitchen. It fit securely in his palm, like it _belonged _there. It almost scared him, but he cherished the feeling. It completed him, even if he would never want to kill another human being in cold blood. The gun proved to him that he would never be _normal_, no matter what he wanted. He had seen so much in such a short time.

Alex tapped it against his temple. He wondered how Julius Grief must have felt for those last few moments before he shot him. The very face he had been tormented with, staring at him as he was -

"Who would think Alex Rider, of all people, could commit suicide?" A familiar voice spoke behind him, ghostly.

Ghostly because, in fact, the owner of the voice should be dead. Alex gently set the gun down on the counter top in front of him and slowly turned. Yassen Gregorovich. A jolt of surprise ran through him. Yassen looked exactly as Alex remembered, scar and all.

"I watched you die."

"Who's to say that I didn't die? Maybe I'm alive. Maybe I'm just a ghost." The man casually leaned against the doorway. "Maybe I'm just a figment of your imagination, and you're just going crazy."

"Why are you here?" Alex asked. He was aware of the cold, calculating eyes examining him, pulling him apart. Yassen was the same yet not. His stance had changed. His posture. Alex couldn't get over the tiny feeling that there was more. There was always more._ Why did you come back? _He opened his mouth to ask, but in two strides, the Russian man was right in front of him. Alex breathed in a lungful of air in shock, not expecting the move. His mind vaguely noted the smell of pine and deodorant.

Leaning forward so that his lips were right by Alex's ear, Yassen whispered: "There's a new cafe downtown by that old bookstore. Meet me a week from today. Noon." Warm breath ghosted down Alex's neck, and he barely repressed a shiver. It was a while before the shock wore off and he noticed that the man had slipped away into the busy streets of San Francisco.

On the table beside the gun was a single piece of paper, with only three words.

_See you soon.  
><em>


	2. Question

**Title:** Question  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K+  
><strong>Summary:<strong> Yassen's not always what he seems, Alex realizes. He's as unpredictable as any other human. WC: 695  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Slash.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> _I do not own Alex Rider._  
><strong>an:** Thanks so much for reading!

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><p>Alex pushed open the doors to the cafe and stepped inside. The cold air had made his cheeks rosy, and the warm air was a relief. The smell of coffee swirled around him, making his tense shoulders relax. Light jazz played in the background. The bells on the door chimed as he closed it, and the girl at the register greeted him jovially.<p>

"Alex! Welcome again!" Her short cropped hair was pink today. On her name tag was the name, Clara. "So, are you on another date with your boyfriend?" She winked at him and nodded towards their usual table. Alex flushed at her inquiry.

"That's not it, Clara, we're just..." He paused. Now that he thought about it, they had ever really talked about their relationship - if that was what he could call it. Despite having been meeting for the past two months, they had never brought up their past. Or their present, for that matter. "I don't know, actually. We've never really talked about it, I guess."

Clara only raised a bemused eyebrow. "Whatever you say, short stuff. Here's your usual." She handed him a mug and waved him off.

Yassen was seated in the far corner, close to the back entrance and facing the rest of the cafe. His overcoat was draped over the back of the chair, and as Alex walked closer, he could see that his mug was drained of coffee; it was obvious he had arrived much earlier.

They greeted each other with a nod. Alex could feel eyes on him - Yassen's eyes. He avoided his gaze, looking out the window instead. It was the same every time. Just a companionable silence.

This time, though, when Alex finishes the last of his coffee, he makes no move to get up. Their eyes met, and Alex knew that, by now, he should have been out of the door and into the cold air. For a long, tense moment they gazed at each other. Alex was overcome with the strong urge to trace the contours of his eyes, his lips, his chin. He placed his shaking fingers under the table.

"What exactly is this? What... What are _we_?" Alex's face flamed at the slight crack in his voice, and he glanced away. "I know nothing about you, but you probably know everything about me."

"We are human," Yassen's heavy gaze was still on him, unrelenting. "and this is whatever you make it to be. But you are quite wrong, Alex; I do not know everything about _you_. Your favorite color. Your hobbies. We are so different, yet so similar," The younger man was suddenly aware of how close they were. "Don't you think so, too, Alex?"

"I..." Alex was at a loss for words. There was so much he wanted, _needed _to say, but the words were stuck in his throat. "You confuse me, Yassen," he confessed. "You say one thing, but... Your eyes say something else." He looked up again at the Russian, unsurprised that the blue eyes were still trained on him. "What do you want from me? I don't work with MI6, anymore. I don't have anything you could wa..."

Rough, chapped lips pressed against his softly, effectively quieting him. The chaste kiss didn't last long, however.

"Why-"

"You really need to learn when to shut up, Alex," Yassen growled. "I could still kill you right here, right now. I may be _retired_ - " He spat out the word with venom. " - but I still have the skills of a contract killer." The abrupt shift in attitude had taken Alex by surprise; he backed away instinctively. A hand at his wrist stopped him from bolting.

"I'm sorry." _Don't go._ Alex's brain told him to leave, to run, but something else told him that Yassen's words were genuine.

"Yes," He said simply.

Behind the register, Clara bit her lip. She had to tell MI6 that Yassen Gregorovich was alive. She's done her job and kept an eye on Alex Rider. There were not supposed to be any strings attatched. No regrets. No worries. No one would ever know.

But why did she feel so guilty?


	3. Trouble

**Title:** Trouble  
><strong>Rating:<strong> K+  
><strong>Summary:<strong> An old _friend _visits. WC: 439  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Slash.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> _I do not own Alex Rider._  
><strong>an:** Thanks so much for reading! If you would like to, PM me or review with a one word or phrase prompt! I might use it. c:

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><p>When Alex opened the door, the last person he expected to see was Alan Blunt.<p>

"Mr. Blunt - " Alex started.

"I'm retired, now." Alan gave a dry smile. "Though, this isn't exactly a time for too many pleasantries."

Alex frowned, his lips thinning into grimace. "I _told _you I'm not working for MI6. Never again. You _know-_ "

"I am here about Yassen Gregorovich." The older man's face was deceptively blank. Alex decided to feign indifference.

"What is there to talk about? He is a dead man." His voice was steely, laced with ice. Whatever Alan's intentions were, they were most assuredly not good.

"He is alive." There was no preemptive talk. For a moment, Alex's shoulders tensed. Just for a moment. But Alan's eyes saw all.

"Oh, really?" Alex sneered. "And why do you tell me this?"

But Alan only smiled. "I believe this is not a subject for a neighbor's eyes and ears." Alex grudgingly let him in.

He put the kettle on for tea, and went back to sit across from his former boss.

"What is this about Yassen?" _And why are you here?, _he wanted to ask.

"He has been spotted nearby. More specifically, a certain cafe a few blocks away." Alex's back stiffened. "Alex, you've - "

"Leave."

"Alex, just listen - "

"_Leave!_" His breath was getting faster and faster; his hands clawed at his denims roughly. White spots appeared in front of him, and he suddenly felt dizzy, so dizzy.

"He killed your uncle, Alex," Alan spoke quickly. "He's a trained assassin - "

"I _know _that!"

" - He kills people - "

"He wouldn't do that to me!" _Would he?_

" - And he's a murderer - "

"_But I love him!_"

There was a dead silence. Alex's breaths came out harsh and heavy. The weight of what he had just said clogged his throat, angry tears gathering in his eyes.

"_Please,_" He sobbed. "just leave me."

"Well, let us hope your heart has made the right choice, then." Alan Blunt left the apartment.

It was quiet, after. He didn't know how much time had passed, but a comforting weight settled beside him on the couch. The familiar smell of pine and deodorant wafted over him, and Alex turned to his side to lay his head on Yassen's shoulder. Breathing in the scent, he fell asleep.

A few moments later, he was too far gone to feel the arm around him, picking him up and laying him into bed. A gentle hand brushed through his hair, and a soft kiss was placed on his brow. He dreamt of peace.


	4. Mirrored

**Title:** Mirrored  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Summary: <strong>Things are not always as clear as they seem. WC: 168  
><strong>Warnings:<strong> Mentions of sex.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> _I do not own Alex Rider._  
><strong>an:** I'm so sorry for the long wait - I have to admit, I'm still not one hundred percent sure where I'm going with this.

* * *

><p>When they finally fall in bed together, it is many months since their first meeting in the coffee shop just blocks away from Alex's apartment. It is frantic and without grace, and this is the first time Alex has been with a man. They grab at each other desperately the moment they get past the door.<p>

(He hasn't thought of it in a while.

Being intimate or getting _married_. Once, he thought he would marry Sabina and love her forever. But that was before -

Everything.)

After the second, third, and the many times they have sex, Alex traces every single one of Yassen's scars. He brushes his lips against the paper-thin scar on his neck, kisses the many jagged cuts on his arms, legs, torso, and he licks at the large scar in the middle of his chest.

The bullet scar so similar to his own.

They - Yassen and Alex - are mirrors of each other, he realizes. And he has the scars to prove it.


	5. Safety First

**Title:** Safety First  
><strong>Rating:<strong> T  
><strong>Summary:<strong> This... is embarrassing. WC: 458  
><strong>Warnings: <strong>Sex toys, condoms, etc.  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> _I do not own Alex Rider._  
><strong>an:** Just a bit of humor because I was inspired. I want to take this up again, but I'm reluctant... Maybe if one or two of you give me a push? ;) Also, this isn't edited...

* * *

><p>"Uh. Sabina. What's this?" Of course, Alex knew what the - <em>things <em>were, that were sitting on his bed, but. Still. This was way too embarrassing and awkward for him. She shot him an incredulous look from where she stood by the door, _still tossing things at him and oh my god, was that a dildo?_

"Do I need to give you the birds and the bees talk? You're a grown boy, I'm sure you know what they are." She strode over to where he cowered - er, sat - on the bed; Sabina could be one hell of a maelstrom if she wanted. Sabina plucked up the box he was referring to and waved it in his face. He flinched back. "Condoms. C-o-n-d-o-m-s. Geez, you're acting like a serious blushing virgin. If I didn't already know you were sexually active, I'd believe it."

Alex felt his face pale.

"I don't know what you mean," he managed to bite out. Sabina only stared at him.

"One month ago, when we met up at that pizza parlor, I saw a huge hickey on the back of your neck," she said, counting it on her fingers. "I wouldn't have thought much about it until three weeks ago when we visited my parents. You reached up to get dishes, and your shirt rode up revealing even more hickies! Then! Two weeks ago! You had dinner at my place, and you were _limping._" She shot a steely look at him. "Unless you were back into that business of yours, I'm sure it wouldn't have been because of some injury. There was a reason I made you sit on the uncomfortable stool." At this, Alex scowled and opened his mouth to protest, but he was quieted by a Look. "Last weekend, I saw you at the cafe a few blocks away with some guy, and I _knew_ I had to do something when I saw you two kiss." Sabina gestured at the bed, looking proud of herself. "And that is why I bought you this."

"Sabina, thanks, but I don't really nee..." Sabina huffed and stopped him with a hug. She pulled away looking a bit worried.

"Alex, I love you. I want to make sure you're safe. Even if - even if I can't do what you do, let me protect you in the way I can. Now, come on, let me show you what this does." They smiled at each other, until Alex was horrified by the purple... monstrosity that she was holding.

"See this, Alex? This has _amazing _rating, and guess what?" She didn't wait for the traumatized Alex to guess. "It _vibrates_!"

Alex could only sit in mute shock as she showed him a whole manner of toys, ridged condoms, and flavored lube.


End file.
